Delta Songs, Collection One
By
Lisa Maraventano
Copyright 2026
1. Clarksdale
The magic can not be forced
It can be lubricated, facilitated
With alcohol
But patience is required
It is slow magic
That unfolds petal by petal
Like a rare lotus
You must be still
And wait
Admiring the unfurling
Not with bated breath,
No. You must breathe
Deep inhalations
Held
And released like a yogi
And then, on the exhale
That sounds like a sigh of surrender
The flower blooms
And there before you
Is all the magic
You’ve ever dreamed of
Reflected on the water’s surface
Twin flowers under a full moon
2. Alluvial
There’s a place in Clarksdale
the Quapaw Canoe Company
that takes folks out on the
mighty Mississippi
I’ve never been
I know myself
I know my limits
But I imagine the people
living huckleberry dreams
Picnicking on sand bars
Camping out
I come from a land of two rivers
With its own fertile delta
And grew up being warned
about undertow
Because the rivers change
the shifting sands
In constant motion
from the energy of the current
The eddies and vortices
holding on, and
letting go.
3. The Blues is a Feeling…
Take the broken pieces of humanity
Shards
Worn down by time
And friction
Edges will not
cut
Like beach glass
A good thing to find
Oceans
The blue bottles broken
Washed toward shore
Blue, green, amber, gray
Filling the trenches
The drop off
Take all those broken pieces
Collect them
As you dive and wander the sands
And store them in a blue Ball jar
In your Clarksdale kitchen
And remember
The blues is a feeling
And feelings come and go
Like any wave
January and July
One
Unbroken
Unbreakable
Wave
Gathered, held
Held like a note
This is the blues
This is the feeling
The blues is a feeling…
4. Sculpted Clay
Pulled from the earth
Formed
Two legs two arms two eyes
What is a man
But sculpted clay?
And then the Spirit comes
Animates
Heart and soul and mind
Sets a man on his feet
And says “Live.”
This sculpted clay
Living statue
Pounds down the earth
With his clay feet
Trodding heavily on that which
He came from, no regard
No regard
Not thinking to step lightly
Not thinking his heavy footsteps
Are felt
Are felt, every one
While heart and soul and mind
Struggle with self-awareness
Identity and purpose
Careening madly,
Animated corpse,
Ricochet, reaction
No set course.
And so it goes.
Pulled from his side, set at his side
The mirror, the counterpart
Complementary piece
Reflecting iniquity
In beauty and sorrow
Joy and passion
Saying here too,
Here too
Step here, you clay-footed fool
We are here to
Tread lightly
We are here to
Transmute clay
To join back into each other
Sink back into the earth.
5. Things Hold Together
My dog is nine years old
My car is fifteen
And my house is eighty-five
I am fifty-three
We are all hanging in there
This Monday morning in
October
We are all in our October
Which is a pleasant
if misnamed month
But the sword of
Winter is always dangling
Overhead
We know it, we see it
We feel it
And there isn’t much to do
Except try to outlast each other
Accept this is how time works
There isn’t much we need to do
Except enjoy the cool sunshine
And the birds chirping
As if it is still spring
6. I love it here
I love it here
In this land
The Delta
I adore the people
Of the Delta
The best
But I have little to say
I came here
To leave the world behind
And I love that
You still care
About elections and earthquakes
Fires and floods
Art and culture
Food
What have I been up to?
I get asked by my friends
And I really don’t know
Except I spent time in the hammock
And listened to the birds
Considered whether I should
Destroy the toadstools
Or let them live
Walked the dog, checked my email
Bought groceries
Drank coffee
Go out to music, chat with people
Dance
That’s what I do.
Try to keep my dishes done
Bills paid, floors clean
Not hate anyone
Try to love
And live in peace
7. Madidi
This rainy December night
Some of my favorite
People in the world
Are at this bar
Madidi
Soul music is playing
And football is on
There is popcorn
And the Pointer Sisters
Everyone wants a little more
But overall we are content
Discussing which beer to drink
Watching the Bills lose
I’ve had one vodka soda
I’m ready to go have a cigarette
But for now I have to pause
And record this moment
We’ve filled up the bar,
This motley crew
Of drifters and dreamers
Musicians, writers, painters
Those who haven’t yet
Found in themselves
What must be created
We are all here
Holding down the bar
As the reflection of the game
Shines in its surface
8. The Price We Pay
Last night at Red’s
My friend asked me
Who I thought
In this town
Really had the blues
Was a real bluesman
And I had to think
For a while
Yes it’s part show,
Part show.
But fake?
The blues is a feeling, right—
We all know that
But what feeling
To open your eyes again
To get out of bed
To stay alive
So I’ve considered
It’s all real,
We’re as real as it gets
Or we wouldn’t be here.
It’s hard for all of us
To get out of bed
Stay alive
Slap on a smile and a coat
Show up.
But we do.
Every fucking day.
We show up for each other
And let the sound
Wash over us, through us
Along with smoke and alcohol
And bullshit
Gossip and chitchat
But somehow it works.
We chain despair
Into a few chords
And beat the fuck out of it.
And maybe
Not one of us
Picks cotton by hand
Anymore
Although the man still
Tries to enslave us.
We shall be free.
Broke but unbroken.
9. The Luckiest People
The luckiest people in the world End up at Hambone in Clarksdale Mississippi on a Tuesday night Listening to Gloria and the Doctor Or the hostel on Sunday listening to Ray Cashman Or Red’s with Big A Lee and Heather Hopson, Shacks Big T, Edna Nicole Hear Prayer sing Juke joints alive Music, blues Ground Zero LaLa, Lucious, Jaxx, Cricket Stan and Frenchie Be Saturday afternoon Slim, Bluesberry Mojo hands Maybe shoot pool with Dynamite At 8th Street Grocery Play cards with Amana on New Year’s Day Or hang out with Irma. None of these things make sense To anyone who is not Lucky But I hope you are And you come on down To the land of muddy waters Feel your soul Find what luck Is left in the world
10. I am at Hambone
I am at Hambone.
Tom and Irene from The Hague
are playing
With Jared (who is only 13)
and Seth on bass
I sent a clip
Of “One Meatball”
to my folks, and they loved it
Reminded them of my
Grandmother, Georgia, Greek
She liked that song, and what it meant
So many decades ago
And yet it is still being sung
This evening.
Tonight Ray Cashman’s behind the bar
It is Tuesday
In September
Lori and Eric are here
Looking cozy tonight
Mason just arrived
Quicksand has a date
And you never know what might happen
And that’s the thing
The thing that keeps me, and us, going
Bear, Ryan, tall with the hat
Luthier
On Delta Avenue
And fuck, Stan’s out of town
In Sardinia
or maybe Lucca but we get his mail
And feed his cats.
And we miss him, but don’t miss him
We all need to wander
Or at least we all understand the wanderlust
And there is no judgment.
Amana is sitting down by me, so I have to go
She’s all that is young and beautiful
Incarnate, with an old soul
And I love her
Along with this whole scene
Youth does not need worshipping
She’s fine, Youth
What is to worship—
The Oneness
Of this place
Of us
Of Clarksdale, Mississippi
This empty and discarded
Tuesday night
At Hambone.